The Shackled Void

Dusk fell over the capital, Solara Magna, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Yet below ground, in a district untouched by twilight, time seemed to stand still, measured only by the lengthening shadows.

The journey through the ancient tunnel felt like an eternity. For Heze, accustomed to instant teleportation and maglev trains on Vega Terra, this slow, arduous physical trek was torture. But for Nihil, it was the first moment of peace he had ever known. In the embracing darkness, far from the judgmental gaze of his family, he felt... free.

He spent his time monitoring the slow regeneration of his Capacity. Every point restored felt like a drop of water in a desert. [Capacity: 7 / 15] . Enough for one emergency Void Grasp. No more.

Finally, after descending stairs that felt endless, he reached the end of the path. A rusty iron grate, hidden behind a pile of trash in a dark alley. Summoning his remaining strength, he pushed the grate open.

The air that hit him was a sensory shockwave.

This was The Undercroft. The pungent sting of burning charcoal, unfamiliar spices, and overflowing sewers mingled into one overpowering miasma. A low roar of dozens of languages, the clanging of hammers from blacksmiths' workshops, and the angry shouts of a street vendor assaulted his ears. Rickety wooden buildings leaned precariously against each other, seemingly held upright only by their collective tilt, illuminated by red and yellow paper lanterns strung on tangled wires.

It was a chaotic, filthy world, but it was alive. Vibrantly alive.

Nihil pulled his hood deeper, hiding his face and hair from curious eyes. Based on the original Nihil's memories, The Undercroft was a place where people came to disappear. But he knew, from Heze's logic, that places like this were also teeming with eyes and ears that could be bought. He was prey, and this was his new wilderness. His goal was simple: survive, find shelter, and gather information.

In a relatively cleaner tavern on the edge of The Undercroft, Tarek Mornhall spread a crude map across a table. Elite members of the Umbra Venari surrounded him, their faces serious.

"Alright, listen up," Tarek said, his voice low and sharp. "Our target is here, somewhere in this maze. Intel from 'The Silencer' says he's weak, but his power is dangerous on contact. So, rule one: maintain distance."

He pointed to several locations on the map. "You two, meet our informant at the Black Market. Offer triple pay for any information on a white-haired boy. You," he pointed to two others, "comb all the cheap inns and flophouses. He'll need somewhere to rest. Me and the rest will patrol the main entrances and rat-runs."

"Objective is capture, Boss?" asked one member.

"Capture is priority," Tarek confirmed. "Client wants him alive. But if he resists and things get too noisy, elimination is authorized. Most importantly, leave no trace."

The team nodded in unison and dispersed, melting into the crowd of The Undercroft like ghosts. The organized, professional hunt was on.

Nihil walked aimlessly, trying to blend in with the throng. His stomach growled, reminding him of the hard bread he'd eaten hours ago. He needed a safe place.

As he passed a dark alleyway, a cold premonition crept up his spine. Not a sound, not a sight. Just a feeling—the sensation of being the focus of a predator's gaze.

The system in his mind flashed a subtle warning.

[Attention: Hostile Intent Detected in Vicinity.]

Heze didn't know what it meant, but he had learned to trust his new survival instincts. Without turning or showing panic, he changed direction, veering sharply and plunging into a dense crowd gathered around a puppet show stage. He moved quickly, using the mass of bodies as a shield, and disappeared into another alley across the street.

Moments later, in the alley where he had just stood, an Umbra Venari scout stepped out of the shadows. He looked towards the crowd with frustration. He'd caught a flash of white hair beneath a hood, but the target had vanished as quickly as he appeared. He pulled out a small bone whistle and blew it, producing a high-pitched tone audible only to other guild members.

Nihil might have made it into The Undercroft, but the hunters' net was already tightening around him.